


Eye of the Storm

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Series: A World of One Color [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Riding Crops, Sexual Content, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, inner conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: The shadow hanging over Jason finally came to knock on his door, and, more than ever, Jason did not want to answer.





	Eye of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as it's Winter once more, I felt it only appropriate to continue this series now.

Few things came more naturally to Jason than patrolling Gotham late at night, all alone.

No one was on the streets at night, save for Roman’s own men, especially now that it was freezing out. Nights like these gave Jason time to be alone with his thoughts while he lazily made sure that nothing unusual went on within Black Mask’s borders. The night was beautiful, despite the state of Gotham. It was snowing again, a blanket of fresh powder forming over every surface it touched. Jason didn’t mind it, shielded from the cold by a warm winter coat, a few layers of pants, and his hood. He’d had no idea how effective simple cotton leggings were at keeping cold at bay.

Although, it was odd; since he’d taken to surveying this particular stretch of land, Jason spotted fewer homeless sleeping on the streets at night. Even for being the dead of Winter, they were less than he’d expect. Jason wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

New year, new things to learn about the world, Jason supposed.

He leapt across a gap between apartment buildings, fast approaching the Penguin border. Old Cobblepot was usually less aggressive than Dent, but it never hurt to make sure nothing fishy was brewing.

As he approached the border, nothing much seemed to change. No activity to speak of, not on the streets at least. All of Gotham was the “bad part of town”, but gang borders were particularly notorious for being bad to stick around in. Still, you wouldn’t have known it in the snapshot Jason saw. It was eye of the storm peaceful.

Only when Jason looked up did that peace break, like the eye of the storm that was Gotham was passing over him. Only then did he notice that he wasn’t alone in the storm. On a not-too-distant rooftop, a figure perched on top of an AC unit.

He’d absolutely been spotted, but the figure wasn’t moving, aggressively or otherwise. It seemed to just look at him, expecting his approach. Jason had little choice but to comply. He had to make sure that Mask’s boundaries were secure and respected.

As he got closer, though, Jason’s heart only sank. _Tim_. What was Tim doing here? He’d had no problems from any of Bruce’s ilk since they’d agreed that Jason would play the mole within Mask’s ranks, and now Tim shows up with no warning? Jason’s stomach turned at the possible implications.

Jason bounded over to him, fueled by curiosity and a stripe of anger. He landed adjacent to Tim with a solid _thump_. Tim flinched at his appearance, taken aback for long enough that Jason could have gotten the jump on him. Either Tim was getting sloppy, or he was intentionally trying to appear non-threatening.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jason growled before Tim could get a word out. “I’m handling Mask, you know that.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” Tim hissed back, glancing behind himself like he might get caught at any minute. “I had to do a lot of convincing to come here instead of- anyone else.”

“What? Why?” Jason gritted his teeth, knowing full-well who Tim was referring to. “If someone wants to talk to me, then that someone should do it himself.”

“I didn’t want _him_ to jump to that,” Tim bit back. “He’s on the verge of pulling you out, and I wanted to talk before anything reaches critical mass.”

Jason froze then, rooted to the spot. Pull him out? Bruce wouldn’t- no, he couldn’t. It was Jason’s choice to stay in, not Bruce’s, and Jason decided if and when he was done, no one else. He’d played by all Bruce’s rules, and now this?

“I’m fine, and you’ve been getting your info. What’s there to talk about?”

Tim’s frown only deepened, and his eyes shifted off to the side, as though he didn’t want to be talking about this any more than Jason did.

Finally, he asked a question, slow and methodical, “Did you know about the addict who was beaten by Black Mask in a parking garage about a week ago?”

Jason blinked. They’d heard about that? Jason had made sure not to mention that incident in particular in any of his reports. So someone must have seen. He should have made sure that the dealer’s buddies had gotten a good distance away before going through with his beating. Jason wasn’t dumb enough to tattle on himself, and he had no intent to repeat the act, so he wasn’t worried about it one way or another.

“Yes,” Jason murmured his admittance.

“Why didn’t you say anything? That’s something you should have reported, direct evidence against Mask.”

Jason didn’t answer. There was no good answer, not to Tim, or Bruce, or anyone, just like there had been no good way of reporting this particular incident after it happened. So, he kept his mouth firmly shut. He wasn't squealing on Roman, not like _this_.

“Jay-” Tim couldn’t quite look at him, frowning like he didn’t really want to be having this conversation. “Is there something going on that you’re not telling us?”

A stab of offense mixed with terror ripped through Jason. Tim couldn’t possibly know about his and Roman’s- thing, not for certain. Did he really suspect? Did Bruce? Bruce couldn’t possibly know; Jason would _die_ if he knew.

Jason set his jaw and glared at Tim before hissing, “You really don’t trust me.”

Tim’s grimace only grew more distraught, and Jason probably would have felt inclined to comfort him if the subject had been anything but himself and Roman.

“B is concerned, Jason,” Tim pleaded. “I’m asking you this so that if something is going on, you don’t get hurt.” 

_By Roman, or by Bruce?_ Jason questioned in his head.

“Please, just...” Tim cut off mid-sentence “Please, tell me nothing is happening.”

He knew that Tim had the best intentions. He knew that he shouldn’t have been so angry, but still, it bubbled to the surface.

“I’ve fed you information, I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do!” Jason knew that he was getting carried away being angry and bitter, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter! It wasn’t Roman, it was one of his collectors wearing a replica mask. Why should we nail him on that when I know I can find worse? Junkies get beaten up over debt every day, this one wasn’t special.”

The longer Jason spoke, the less Tim seemed to buy it, and the more his expression grew conflicted and strained. His frown was still present, but it had turned sympathetic.

“Okay. I believe you,” he said, clearly doing all he could to quash the worry in his voice. “Off the record, B wants you out. I’ll vouch for you, but you know how he is.”

Jason turned and stalked towards the edge of the roof as he spoke, “He’s a stubborn old jackass, that’s how he is.”

A long pause passed between them, and Jason was tempted to bound away and forget that any of this happened. Jason didn’t need Bruce or any of his lackies breathing down his neck. Jason had everything under control.

It was Tim who broke the silence.

“If there was something going on, then you should know that he doesn’t blame you,” he promised Jason, voice softer than before. “Black Mask is a known manipulator.”

“I’m not being manipulated!” Jason cried out, whipping around to face Tim.

Tim flinched once more, but his expression remained skeptical, if not even more so. He didn’t speak, leaving Jason open to dig his pit a little deeper.

“I know that I’m not. I know it sounds insane, and it doesn’t make sense to you or- him, but it’s the truth. I know what I’m doing.”

Tim’s expression changed at that statement. It wasn’t entirely a frown anymore, instead, his brow had taken on an inquisitive furrow.

With a sigh, Jason murmured almost to himself, “I know he’s not gonna trust me, just like always.”

In that instant, something seemed to click in Tim’s mind.

“But Mask will?” he asked, taking a few cautious steps forward.

“What do you know?” Jason growled without any real bite, turning his head away.

Gently, so that Jason could see every move, Tim reached out and touched Jason’s shoulder. Jason tensed, but he didn’t fight it. Tim’s hand was warmer than the air at least.

“Sounds nice, being trusted,” he mused.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim, but found nothing but a softened stance and sad half-smile. Jason had to remember that he wasn’t the only one who’d had to deal with Bruce; he was just the one who took it the most personally. If Jason had to guess, this was Tim’s way of trying to express understanding, if he could ever truly understand.

“Yeah, it does,” Jason agreed, his voice as hollow as his words.

They stood there for a long while. The cold seeped into Jason’s bones in that time as he considered what this meeting would mean for him in the long-term. And yet, there was a kind of ethereal warmth he gleaned from Tim’s touch. A sense that, for better or worse, Tim did want the best for Jason. Not in any controlling sense, but genuine want for Jason to be happy. Jason didn’t know how much that really meant with Bruce lurking just around the bend, but it felt nice.

Of course, it couldn’t last too long. Tim pulled away after however many minutes, and spoke quietly under his breath.

“I should get going. I wasn’t supposed to be here this long.”

“Same,” was Jason’s equally curt response.

As Tim turned to leave, he gave a glance back at Jason, “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Jason had nothing to say to that. His only obligation now was to make sure that Tim, and anyone like Tim was off of Roman’s turf.

Tim seemed to take the hint, hurrying off over rooftops and disappearing into the cold night.

Jason stomach twisted like it might lurch at any time, and he watched the rooftops even after TIm had long since disappeared. Truth was that he wanted nothing more than to get back to Roman, and all the things that would entail.

With a shuddering sigh he realized Bruce, and Tim by extension were absolutely correct.

This was a problem.

*****

Even after he got back from patrol, Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter

Maybe they were right to be worried. Maybe things had gone too far, and, for all Jason knew, maybe Roman still was luring him into- something. Trying to quietly condition him into doing things like what Tim had found out about. Still, Jason had told Roman that he didn’t want to repeat that, and Roman seemed to respect that. Would that change? He knew that there would always be the possibility.

And yet, as he walked into the suite, Roman was right there, looking up from his armchair to greet Jason.

“There you are,” he said, rising to his feet. “It’s about time.”

He’d waited for Jason. Jason knew it because always, unless there was a pressing situation, Roman was in bed by ten. It was almost eleven, and Roman obviously didn’t have anything else keeping him awake. 

It made Jason feel- needed. Like he was important to Roman, somehow, beyond his utility in the field.

“I had to do a thorough patrol,” Jason explained as he got his outerwear off. “A little birdie got lost, had to deal with it.”

“Isn’t that convenient?” Roman asked. “You trying to avoid me?”

If Jason didn’t know any better, he would have been worried. Having been around Roman, though, he could detect the teasing note in his words.

“Me?” Jason asked, feigning surprise, even as tired as he was. “‘Course not. Who would ever want to avoid you?”

“That’s my boy,” Roman purred, any pretense dropped.

Jason felt himself preen at the praise, but couldn’t help but question it in that instant. Was Roman exploiting him? Using his want for approval against him? Could be, for all Jason knew, but he still liked it.

Roman came up at his side as he asked, “You hungry at all?”

Another thing to worry about: Roman’s constant concern with Jason. Always making sure that he was fed, watered, and getting enough sleep. Like a prized horse. Even when Jason had first started this charade, Roman had made it very clear that Jason was eating from his palm. Yet, again, he’d always liked that, in some sick way. The problem wasn’t what he liked, though; it was Roman’s intent.

Jason turned, and shook his head.

“Just a little cold,” he answered, giving a weak smile.

“Well then, that’s an easy fix, huh?” Roman met his eyes as he spoke.

Somehow, the way that Roman looked at him, Jason wanted to believe that he genuinely cared. It was easy to believe that he cared.

Jason let himself be led to the bedroom. As he stepped through the door, Jason knew that, despite the comfort he felt and was shown, he shouldn’t really feel safe. He wasn’t safe. If life had taught him one thing, it was that he was never safe, and certainly not with Roman.

But Roman _had_ kept him safe. Cared for him when he was sick, made sure that any injuries he sustained were given the best treatment possible, held him as they slept. He was dangerous, absolutely, but Jason was given all the right kinds of attention. Jason was an exception, a favorite.

The question always was of if and when that favor would dry up. When Roman might grow bored of him and toss him aside. Jason knew it was a possibility, but Roman had kept him for this long.

Jason might have flushed a bit at the idea of being “kept”. It didn’t personally bother him, as much has it embarrassed him. He wasn’t supposed to be being kept, he was supposed to be spying.

The worst of it, though, was that he really didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want anything to change about the current arrangement. Bruce and co weren’t pissed at him and trying to rip him away from Roman, and Roman was either none the wiser or didn’t care that he was leaking information. Information that got thinner and thinner with every week. Was Roman running things more legitimately than he had before Jason came into the picture, or was he just keeping the more sensitive information under tighter wraps? Who could say?

All Jason knew was that he didn’t want to think about it anymore.

As soon as the door shut, and he and Roman were alone, Jason made his request.

“Hurt me,” Jason said, in barely a whisper. “Please.”

Roman turned to look at him, like he wasn’t sure of what he’d heard.

“I can do that,” he said, casual tone contrasting his body language.

“Then do it,” Jason challenged, hardening his gaze.

With just those three, pushy words, Roman’s shoulders raised and tensed. He knew what Jason meant from just that. It was no night for going easy.

*****

Jason was in bed, after, unable to sleep, despite his comfortable, front-facing position. He was a little sore, but the cooling cream Roman had rubbed in did wonders for pain and bruising.

Pain that Roman had inflicted on him in the first place. If Jason wasn’t used to it, he might have thought it strange.

Well, it was a little strange, at least. How easily the pain had cleared Jason’s head of worries and anxiety. Shouldn’t it have bothered him more? Having his back marked up like that after the things he’d been through? Or maybe that was exactly why it was so cathartic.

Without the pain and pleasure and stimulation from Roman, his mind was buzzing again.

He kept playing what had happened back in his head. Roman had gotten him down on the bed, face first, and ordered him to stay. No bindings, just the sheer force of Roman’s will keeping him in place. The whole time, Jason could have stood up and walked out, but he’d stayed. Stayed and received exactly what he’d asked for.

Jason had wanted to stay there. He’d wanted the pain, not for pain’s sake, not entirely, but because it was Roman doling that pain out.

Roman had picked a riding crop that night, out of the stash he kept behind a panel in his closet. He wielded it with sheer, hard skill, and only briefly teased Jason before switching his back. Jason had refused to shout his pain at first. Once more, it had reminded him of another position he’d once found himself in.

It was on that thought that an inkling crawled its way to the front of Jason’s mind: was Roman just another, craftier Joker? Perfectly willing to hurt Jason for his own sick pleasure? Even willing to go a step further and abuse Jason’s trust?

Well, he hadn’t done that so far, Jason knew that. It hurt, but it wasn’t bad. He’d asked Roman for it, and he knew that he’d come back from it. More than that, Jason knew that Roman wouldn’t abandon him once he’d had his fun. He’d walk him back to reality, nice and easy. It wasn’t anything like what that psycho had put him through.

It reminded him of being beaten. It didn’t remind him of Joker. That was a leap that Jason had had to consciously think of. Yet, as Roman brought the crop down once more, Jason had cried out in earnest. He had leaned into the pain, savoring it.

And once Roman had finished marking Jason up, any notions of him being like Joker went out the window. Roman let him simmer in pain for no more than a minute before he started massaging the salve into Jason’s back. Jason squirmed against the sensation, but Roman simply hushed him and murmured comfort to him. He called Jason good, told him how well he’d taken it, reminded Jason that he was proud.

Jason would have cried if his head wasn’t completely cleared of his usual worries. He didn’t deserve any of it. Being completely out of it, though, Jason had laid there and happily taken it.

That fog remained as he felt Roman reach around to palm at his hard-on. It was more than enough to get a purr out of Jason. A bit of sweet satisfaction after being exposed to so much pain.

Roman leaned into him then, almost mounting Jason, but farther up than usual, his cock just barely touching Jason’s back. Just like that, he started rubbing himself on Jason’s skin. That was all he did he a long while, simply rut up against the space between Jason’s ass and his lower back. Jason winced at first, as Roman grazed up against his treated, but still fresh welts. He’d quickly grown accustomed to it, though, and began to plead for more, for Roman to fuck his thighs, or his ass, or- something.

Roman complied, but took his sweet time doing so. He didn’t change a thing about his pace, just reached under Jason once more and started jerking him off in earnest. Somehow, in that moment, the sensation was as sweet as any Jason could imagine. Roman’s bare hands were electric on his cock, maybe even more so than getting fucked straight out. It made him feel taken care of, just like Roman hurting him on request had.

Jason came first, unable to hold back with Roman’s hand on him. He cried out with no inhibitions as he shot over Roman’s absurdly comfortable, exotic sheets. If Roman cared, he didn’t make it obvious at all. All that seemed to be on his mind was rutting harder and faster against Jason, growling as he pushed himself over the the edge.

Somehow, maybe from experience or intuition, Jason had known exactly when Roman would go off. Yet, he hadn’t braced or tensed or anything. All he’d done was shudder as he felt Roman’s cum hit him like a tramp stamp on the small of his back. Perhaps that was fitting.

“Pretty boy. Good boy,” was all Roman said afterwards. It was all he needed to say, and all Jason needed to hear.

Jason smiled to himself, just barely aware that he’d gotten what he wanted and Roman had enjoyed himself while injecting some spontaneity into their routine. The warm buzz in his stomach wasn’t just from afterglow, he knew.

Jason didn’t have to lift a finger to sort himself out from there. All of that was taken care of by Roman, who carefully picked Jason up and arranged him on his front at the head of the bed. Jason was glad for a pillow’s support

Then came the consideration that Roman was just another Bruce, offering comfort and a warm place to rest, only to push Jason aside when he became inconvenient. That notion was tossed out even more quickly than the first. Bruce wouldn’t have cared much for Jason’s input in the first place. He would have considered Jason’s affinity for pain mixed with care and pleasure to be a distraction from the “real” target. Something to be overcome and pushed down at all costs, the way Jason had been doing for so long.

Jason was tired of living like that. Exhausted. He wondered if it was tiring for Roman too. If he’d be willing…

Jason cut off that thought, feeding into the very same cycle that he’d spun through over and over again. He feared wondering, feared the possibility of denial. But what if? Roman was still at least partially unknown. Jason couldn’t say for sure if he’d open up or not.

As Roman settled down next to him, gently draping an arm across his upper back, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if he had a true opportunity in Roman. A chance for things to be different than every other connection he’d made in his life.

Roman wasn’t Bruce, he wasn’t Joker, and he wasn’t even some strange middle ground. He was something entirely of his own. Still a blank slate in his relationship with Jason, but holding exhilarating, hopeful potential.

So, Jason had to ask himself: why are you still afraid?


End file.
